


Dinner Rush

by Misha Berry (MishaDerps)



Series: Contest Winners [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Bat Family, Coming Out, Family Dinners, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 14:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13342788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MishaDerps/pseuds/Misha%20Berry
Summary: Tim decides it's finally time to tell his family that he and Conner are dating. Madness ensues.





	Dinner Rush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anna Laura Paula](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anna+Laura+Paula).



> Here we are! The prize from my Interlude chapter in Blood in the Water. This was super fun to write and I had a blast. There was one little part in here that I'd just been dying to use, so thank you Anna for giving me the opportunity.

All in all, dinner was going surprisingly well. Tim had suspected that it would, at least at first, when no one suspected anything. Conner had been his friend for years, so while it wasn't common for him to be over for a family dinner, no one really thought it was out of the ordinary. That Conner was nervous was explainable too, since the Kryptonian teen always seemed to be a little twitchy around Bruce, no matter the context.

Tim betrayed nothing on his face, but gently squeezed Conner’s hand under the table. Across from him, Cass gave Tim a knowing look and nodded. She’d figured it out the moment they sat down, but had politely said nothing. Now was the time though, Tim had to do it now or never.

Clearing his throat, Tim got everyone’s attention, “I have something I want to say,” he said.

Everyone at the table stopped talking and looked towards Tim. Alfred, in the middle of bringing out desert, also stopped. Tim coughed and tried not to let his nerves get the better of him.

“Tim?” Bruce asked, looking a little concerned. With all of his kids getting into shenanigans every other day, he probably had a right to be.

Tim took a deep breath, “I wanted to tell you all that I’m dating someone,” he said, squeezing Conner’s hand again, “Conner and I are dating,” he said in a slight rush.

There was a short pause before Jason banged his hand on the table, “I knew it!” he crowed in delight, “Duke owes me twenty bucks!”

“No fair!” Duke shouted from the other end of the table, “I haven’t been here that long!”

After that, there was a bit of a chaotic scramble around the table. Bruce put his hands together and zeroed in his patented BatGlare TM on Conner, who stiffed in his seat. The rest of Tim’s patchwork family were all talking and shouting at once, making it hard to discern what anyone was saying. Finally things calmed down enough that Tim was able to pick things out of the conversation.

“How long has this been going on Tim?” Dick asked, the picture of brotherly interest and concern.

“About three months,” Tim said before he could think better of it.

“Three  _ months _ ?” Dick asked, looking devastated, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I  _ just _ told you,” Tim huffed.

“Why didn’t you tell me  _ sooner _ ?” Dick specified, “I’m you big brother, you can come to me with these things Tim.”

Tim resisted the urge to slam his head into the table (knowing him, he’d accidentally stab himself in the face with a fork), “It’s not like I was having a crisis,” he said, “I’ve always known I liked guys, and I’ve known I was in love with Conner since he … since he died. Conner was the one who had the crisis.”

Conner jolted in his seat, and suddenly all eyes were on him. He sat straight as a steel pole, hoping that he didn't look as sweaty and jittery as he felt. Bruce’s glare intensified and he made a tiny noise in his throat. Conner was very glad that he’d let Clark and Lois know his whereabouts for the evening. When he disappeared, they’d know where to look.

“Whatever, I don't care,” Damian said, “Date whoever you choose.”

Tim felt a glimmer of warmth in his chest, “Thanks Damian, that’s—”

“Just so long as I get to be the Godfather,” Damian finished with a slight grin.

The glimmer of warmth fizzled and died and Tim had to almost physically fight himself not to reach out and slap Damian. Dick, who’d been in the middle of taking a sip of his drink to calm down, abruptly snorted into his glass and started coughing violently. Jason reached over and thumped on his back to ‘help’ him, all the while laughing hysterically.

“We’re  _ dating _ ,” Tim hissed, “Not getting married. There will be  _ no _ children.”

“None?” Conner asked, suddenly turning to him, looking like Tim had just told him Santa was a conspiracy.

“...None for a while,” Tim said quietly.

“Like I said,” Damian said with a satisfied smirk, “ _ I _ get to be the Godfather.”

Tim glared at Damian, hoping it conveyed how much he wished he could stab the smug grin off of the little brat’s face, “You do  _ not _ get to be the Godfather.  _ Theoretical _ Godfather.”

The table devolved into more chaos, this time mostly over who the Godfather of Tim’s theoretical children would be. All the while, Alfred calmly distributed dessert around the table. When he got to Conner, he laid a generous slice of pie on his plate.

“Honestly it’s gone better than I expected,” Alfred said to Conner as he put a dollop of whipped cream on top of the pie (cherry, which Conner was grateful for; he didn't feel like getting into the middle of Martha and Alfred’s ongoing battle of who’s apple pie was better).

“You knew?” Conner asked, looking up at Alfred. Everyone else wasn’t paying attention to them at all. Even Bruce had stopped glaring at Conner and was now trying to referee the chaos.

Alfred raised one grey eyebrow and laid a weathered hand on Conner’s shoulder, “My boy, when trying to keep secrets in this house, I would suggest keeping in mind who washes the bedsheets.”

Conner stiffened, recalling suddenly all the times he’d spent the night with Tim in this very house, the various messes they’d made of Tim’s sheets. Alfred’s blue eyes stared back into his, and Conner was suddenly aware that nearly everything on his plate that evening had been prepared by Alfred. He didn't think Alfred would have done anything, but he was very glad that he was resistant to most poisons, just in case.

“Enjoy the pie, Master Conner,” Alfred said, walking off with his usual perfect posture. Conner’s brain helpfully translated that to ‘ _ hurt my grandson and I’m the last one in the family anyone would suspect _ .’

Conner sat there for a while, trying to process what was his life even. Duke tapped him on the shoulder, “Hey man, you gonna eat that?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to win a fic, keep an eye on new updates of my main fics for contests.


End file.
